


DreamRe

by GoldenEmolga



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Murder-Suicide, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-08 09:02:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3203537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenEmolga/pseuds/GoldenEmolga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He reminded her that she wasn't alone in this world, and she reminded him that she didn't intend to be alone in the next..."</p>
<p>Following Annie's murder-suicide that killed 13 of his classmates, Armin is forced to write an essay about how the tragedy could have been prevented.  However, he didn't expect his satire would actually be used as the basis of a new military academy where every decision is based on each student's nightmares and dreams.  =)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I know. I'm bad. I'm working on two other stories right now, but then I had a new idea. I figured I'd at least write out the little intro before I forgot about it and see if anyone was interested. Comments and kudos always appreciated. Thank you all! =)

Four years ago, Annie Leonhart showed up at her middle school with bombs strapped to her chest.  She killed herself and took 13 of her classmates along with her, also injuring 25 more in the process.

According to the Shiganshina Post, she had shown up to her military training school wearing a bulkier hoodie than normal.  Even more alarming was the fact that she was acting uncharacteristically happy, smiling at her classmates as she walked down the hallways and laughing at all of the jokes made by her friends.  It didn’t take long for one of these friends to realize that something was different about her and to pull her aside to ask if something was the matter.  Quietly, she’d revealed her secret to him, even pulling up her hoodie just enough to give him a peak of her intentions.

The boy quickly sprang into action in an attempt to talk her down from this insane plan.  He reminded her that she wasn’t alone in this world, and she reminded him that she didn’t intend to be alone in the next, proving her point by grabbing his arm and squeezing it tightly, causing him to wince in pain.

The small noise had brought unwanted attention to the escalating situation and caused it to gain even more momentum.  The boy’s two best friends had quickly become aware of his discomfort and leapt into action in two very different ways.  His male best friend ran to his side and ripped the two apart while his female best friend carefully studied the situation.  It didn’t take her long to tune in to the sensitive state of affairs and begin to act, carefully ushering other students out of the busy cafeteria, one at a time so as not to draw undesirable attention from Annie or panic from the other children.

The boy continued his desperate negotiations, realizing only now that he couldn’t change her mind but knowing that he had to keep it up as long as possible so the other students would have time to make it out safely.  His male best friend, not realizing that the boy was attempting to selflessly protect his classmates, tried to pull him away from the obvious danger, but he stood his ground, certain of what had to be done, unwilling to allow the genocide of his classmates.

Despite continuing the charade, Annie had grown visibly impatient, her fingers itching to press the trigger and end it all.  In a flurry of movement, the situation climaxed.  The boy’s male best friend sensed the negative change in the air and acted on sheer instincts to save his friend.  A moment later, everything went dark.  After the ringing from the blast died down, the only remaining sounds were those of crumbling bricks and crying, maimed children.  The boy had been shielded by his best friend, and it would be months before either of them recovered mentally or physically. 

In fact, the mental healing was still going on.

During the state and federal investigations that followed, it was discovered that Annie had revealed to a few of her friends, including the boy who had tried to persuade her to reconsider, that she’d been having strange dreams lately, dreams where she’d slaughtered her classmates and her friends with no remorse.  This discovery resulted in public unrest and a demand by citizens that lawmakers get more involved in the school systems.  Yet again.  Comically, these desperate officials turned to their number one resource:  the children who had been affected by Annie’s actions.  Those who had witnessed the attack were forced to write an essay about how they believed this could have been prevented.

An excerpt from one such essay is below:

 

"It’s clear to me that the current method of using bimonthly placement tests to determine a student’s scholarly and, furthermore, lifelong career trajectory is fundamentally flawed, especially for those being groomed in our militarily and politically-focused schools.  A few scribbles on a few pieces of paper is hardly capable of capturing each child’s true capabilities and aspirations.  Instead, as was clear with Annie, a deeper look should have been conducted on the psyche.  The administrators shouldn’t be afraid to take a look at our true essence and use this information to lay out our entire lives on their master chessboards.  Our every thought, our every hope, our every fear should be examined through a microscope in order to make our world a better, more stable place, a place where every event is obvious and predetermined, a place with no surprises.  Therefore, I propose that our very dreams be used as the criteria to determine our futures from this point forward." 

The author of this submission was outraged by the educational system of the past and was making a statement that the ideals of children cannot be easily seen with a few generic test questions.  He believed that students shouldn’t be forced down certain paths by those in charge, for he saw the effects that this suppressive system had on its subjects.  Annie had just received her new assignment the day before she finally cracked.  She’d been placed, once again, into a more specialized fighting unit.  Though she was very capable of fulfilling the duties she was being trained for, she was tired of fighting.  She’d been fighting her entire life:  at home, at school, in her head.  If only she’d been able to choose a different path for herself, things might have been different.

 

 

Or, at least, that’s what I surmised from what she’d told me before she ended everything.  Yes, I’m the one that tried to talk her down from her insanity.  Yes, I’m the one that ridiculed the government and the general population for assuming that such a tragedy could have been easily prevented with more supervision and more control.  Yes, I’m the one that attempted to call out the absurdity of the test-based placement methods of the past.  And, yes, I’m the one to blame for the even worse placement methods currently in effect.

My name is Armin Arlelt, and the legislature used my essay, my **satirical** essay, to reform their educational system by creating DreamRe Academy, a prison-like, military training school that makes every decision that dictates our lives based on nothing but our nightmares and dreams.


	2. Waking Up In the 104th Ream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get a glimpse into the typical wake-up routine of Armin and the other kids stuck in his "Ream," the group that he's essentially responsible for. Just what do these duties include? Stay tuned to find out! =)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lovely Blizzard of 2015 had me trapped in a hotel for two days. Oh well. At least I got to write a new chapter. =)

A pained gasp echoed through the dark, otherwise quiet room.  Instinctively, I flipped over in my bunk and laid an arm across the source of the noise.  A moment later, my fingers were captured in a vice grip that I’d become all too familiar with.

I heard the other inhabitants of the room begin to stir quietly.  I heard a few sniffles and murmurs mixed in with the typical groans and obligatory “Damn it, Jaeger.”

Sitting up, I wiped my bleary eyes before flipping the switch on the top of my headboard.  I looked around the room of beds filled with the familiar faces of the friends that I’d accidentally damned to this place.  All of the bunks lined the outside of the room, situated in pairs, with one boy essentially trapped between his DreamMate’s bed and the wall.

Ignoring the pain taking hold of my left hand, I watched the outer boys reach for the two clipboards on the sides of their headboards, keeping one for themselves and handing off the other to their partners.  Quietly, the inner boys began recounting their nightly terrors as the others scribbled away.

Turning back towards the wall, I looked down at my own bunkmate, Eren Jaeger.  His eyes were scrunched closed as if he was in physical pain.  I realized just how sad it was that those tears streaming down his face were the norm and that their absence would have been more concerning to me than their presence.

“Eren,” I asked, leaning towards him and pushing his messy hair away from his sweat-drenched forehead, “will you be okay if I go check on someone else?”

He nodded frantically, as he always did, attempting to silently convince me that I shouldn’t worry about him any more than anyone else, but I never really believed him.  After I hopped down and headed across the room, I glanced over my shoulder and noticed that he’d, once again, grabbed my pillow and was clutching it to his chest, attempting to calm himself.  All things considered, this was a good day so far.  At least I hadn’t been forced into restraining or sedating him.

I stopped next to Marco who was frantically documenting Jean’s desperate narrative:  something about man-eating giants.  Again.  He seemed extra shaken up today, but I figured I’d find out exactly why later.  For now, it seemed like he just needed a little reassurance.  So I reached for his palm, squeezing gently to grab his attention.  It worked because he stopped mid-sentence and looked up at me.

“You okay?” I inquired quietly, offering a little smile in stark contrast to the current situation.

Neither Marco nor I missed Jean expertly rearranging our fingers so that they were laced.

Nodding, he answered, “It just… seemed so real.  And as soon as things were looking up, well…”

Eren had woken him up.  Eren had woken everyone in the room up, just as he had every morning for nearly the past four years.  Many of the boys here were tormented, but for some reason, Eren was taking things the hardest.  He lived with a guilt he didn’t deserve, and under normal circumstances, he’d surely be able to heal from it.  However, this facility doesn’t let anyone forget their failures, mistakes, or fears.  In fact, it feeds off of them.

Marco was watching us, and I kept noticing his eyes drift to our clasped hands.  I felt bad for the boy, considering how jealous he must be that he never seemed to have this sort of calming effect on Jean.  In fact, whenever Marco tried to soothe his DreamMate, things just seemed to get worse.  So, he’d just given up and now tried his hardest to act as nothing but a passive scribe every morning.  That being said, they were still the best of friends, but as far as I could tell, they’d never become anything more. 

Despite listening to Marco’s stories every morning, Jean didn’t realize that 95% of the time, they were about him.  Marco had filed for partial censorship of his dreams early on in the process.  This censorship from one’s DreamMate is granted with the condition that all withheld information be immediately disclosed to that person’s Reamer.  And that was me.

Jean had also filed for partial censorship.  Unfortunately for him, Marco had easily figured out just who Jean was dreaming about.  Well, besides the so-called “Titans.”

“Do you know the best part about waking up in the middle of a dream?” I questioned, sitting down at the base of their beds, still holding Jean’s hand.

Marco glanced at Jean, who was shaking his head.

“You can make up your own ending,” I stated with a genuine smile, stroking my thumb along his in an attempt to solidify his growing calm.

Jean smiled back at me, and I could have sworn that I saw his cheeks turning pink before he looked towards the wall.  Knowing he was okay and in Marco’s very capable hands, I released his hand and pulled it away, though he seemed a little hesitant to let me go.

Sensing his apprehension, I added, “And the best part about making up your own ending is that, since you didn’t actually dream it, you don’t have to report it either.”

As soon as I walked away, Jean began retelling his nightmare where he’d left off, though his voice was much more even now.  I walked past Bertholdt and Reiner’s bunks on my way to the water dispenser.  They’d already moved on to Reiner’s turn to disclose, and I briefly heard him mentioning something about being crushed.  Conny, on the other hand, was telling Marlo about a fantasized stroll through the small town he was from.  I was happy to hear that someone had something pleasant to recount.  I made a mental note to read Conny’s report somewhere in the middle, to break up all of the despair.

After fetching some water for him, I returned to Eren’s side and climbed back into bed.  He attempted to casually put my pillow back.  I pretended not to notice.  Instead, I handed him the water and studied his face.  He looked like he was desperately trying to keep himself together.

“Are you ready?” I inquired, and I hated myself for how cold and mechanical I sounded.

After taking a big drink, nearly finishing the full glass I’d given him, Eren nodded and stated, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

I reached for the clipboard beside my bed.  There were two there, but one was never used.  I never had Eren document my dreams, though there was never much for me to report anyways.  Since the very beginning, I’d been forging my reports in his handwriting.  I think it was better for both of us this way.  He’d probably just worry that I never dreamed.

“Same premise as always?” I asked calmly, glancing at the clock on the far side of the room and filling in the time at the top of the form.

“Am I really that predictable?” he laughed, choosing to look at his hands in his lap instead of me.

“Sometimes predictability is a good thing.  Too much change can be startling and unnerving,” I answered while jotting down a few notes about his demeanor.

“Well, I wish I had dreams like Jean’s,” Eren commented, picking at a thread in his comforter.  

I stopped writing to glance over at him.

Eren’s eyes met mine before he continued, “If I had dreams about monsters, you can bet that I’d fight back.”

I smiled and went back to writing, commenting, “I have no doubt.”

Eren sighed before admitting, “I hate these dreams because I can’t change them.  They actually happened, and I couldn’t stop them in the past.  I guess my punishment is being cursed to relive them over and over.  Forever.”

Again, I glanced away from my notes to study him.  He’d finally looked away from the blankets covering us, but I didn’t like his new fixation any better.  He was staring at my right arm, the one with all of the scars and mismatched skin.  I mentally scolded myself for not fetching my glove before starting this conversation.

“You know, Eren,” I stated, “maybe these nightmares would change if you allowed yourself to remember that day differently.”

“Are you saying that I don’t remember what happened?  I was right—”

“You’re wrong though,” I argued.  “The story you keep telling me isn’t what happened, and you know it.  You’ve got to forgive yourself.  You’re only human.”

“But it’s my—"

Fault.  I knew that’s what he wanted to say.  That’s what he always said.  And I was tired of hearing it.  Especially because I knew very well that the blame was mine, if anyone’s.

“Enough,” I interrupted rather harshly.  “Anything different happen this time?”

Eren looked hurt, dropping his gaze back to his lap.  I watched as he smoothed out the blankets covering himself.  For a long time, he didn’t say anything, and I worried that I’d scared him into silence.  I wasn’t angry at him.  I was angry at everything around us.  I should have known better than to raise my voice because this was certainly no way to get him to stop blaming himself.

“The blonde...” Eren started finally, his whisper barely audible over the increasing chatter of the other boys who were probably waiting around for further instructions from me.

“What about… her?” I asked, reaching towards him in an attempt to make up for my poor attitude a few minutes ago.

He responded by pulling his hand away, not in a defiant protest, but something more heartbroken than that.

“…She… was taken away from me,” he answered, closing his eyes to hold back the tears on the verge of spilling down his cheeks.

“By who?” I asked, trying to read him before he even spoke.

“I don’t know.  They were nothing but shadows.  I couldn’t look away from those blue eyes…” he responded honestly, and I knew he wasn’t lying.

Well, except for the gender of his stolen love, but I let it slide, as always.

“I’m sure… she’ll be fine,” I assured him as I wrote down this last bit of information and returned the clipboard to its holster.

Eren looked up at me, as if searching me for something, before admitting, “I hope so…  Otherwise… I won’t be…”

Sighing, I climbed out of bed to address the boys that were looking at me.  I heard Eren plop down right behind me a moment later.

“Go ahead and hit the showers while I go check on the girls,” I stated as I began collecting this morning’s notes.

When I didn’t hear anyone move, I grew a bit concerned.  I glanced behind me to see that even Eren hadn’t moved from his spot near our beds.

“Umm, Captain…?” Marco offered politely.

It wasn’t until he spoke up that I realized that all thirteen of the other boys in my barracks were looking at me, silently, in parade rest.

“Oh.  Sorry,” I added sheepishly.  “Dismissed.” 

With that, everyone relaxed and grabbed their towels, heading for the lockers.  I felt foolish for, yet again, failing to give a proper command.  I still wasn’t used to my promotion and my Ream’s relocation.  I doubted I’d ever be used to such a title because, after everything I’d caused, I was certain that I wouldn’t ever deserve it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I'm sorry, but these chapters are probably gonna stay on the shorter end, like this. With my other stories, I've been trying to force myself to write chapters that are too long, and everyone gets burnt out with those. =)


End file.
